Untitled
by Fball
Summary: After Double D tricks the cul-de-sac into going on a 'relief trip' to war torn African country Somalia to study a rumored 'Living Death' virus, he gets more than he bargains for when a small militia unknowing releases the virus and causes an epidemic.


"Why the fuck did we agree to this?" Eddy demanded, crossing his arms over his chest in a very huffy, feminine way. His hair was concealed underneath his newfound favorite hat, with the very tips of his hair exposed beneath the band. Double D noticed this, but continued to type away on his Apple laptop. It was that one that could easily slip into a manila envelope, but had no USB connections, but this model did have Bluetooth sync capabilities with all his devices, so it really didn't matter. Even his printer at home was Bluetooth equipped for this laptop.

"To help the war torn path of Somalia on its way to recovery and-" Double D began still focusing really more on his typing then Eddy's rhetorical question.

"Don't bull fucking shit me, dude," Eddy said, then gestured at the wafer thin laptop that was perched perfectly dead center in the middle of the tray that collapsed from the seat in front of Double D. "You brought that shit here, along with all this other bull shit equipment that I know you used when we were checking the swamp for signs of the goddam Bird Flu."

"And what do you think _that _means," Double D scoffed, though inside, he had a warm and fuzzy feeling. Eddy was finally beginning not to only observe things around him, but take his previous notes and apply them to current situations and use them to make an argument. A few more years and he could very well end up in debate!

"It means that your fucking looking for some virus or bacteria or some shit like that in this piece of shit African country, and you brought the hole fucking cul-de-sac-"

A stewardess came by and gave Eddy a warning on his tone and choice of words. Eddy apologized, then gave her a five and ordered a straight vodka, no ice. She cocked her eyebrow, but fetched the drink. They had just entered African airspace, and technically, this seventeen year old could legally drink. Unless, of course, you were a bureaucrat that made sure that every little rule was followed and that every string was cut. Luckily for Eddy, this young woman with red lipstick truly didn't care whether or not he drank booze or not-if it would quite him, then so be it. Eddy returned towards Double D, slightly recollected. He took a soothing deep breath, let it out, and began again, this time at a much slower, sober rate.

"Ok, you son of a bitch. You brought everyone down to this war country that's gonna put us in the line of fire the moment we step off the fucking plane. I want a reason, and no more bull shit. I'm not even kidding."

Double D listened to this, amused. He was about to speak when the stewardess came by again, this time with the small glass of vodka. Eddy tipped her, and took a swallow, enjoying the spreading burn that occurred every time he took a swallow of the good stuff. He put the glass down, waiting for the warmth to dissipate at his liver. Double D waited; in fact, he even put his laptop away, closed it and turned it away from him at a ninety degree angle.

"Africa has always been the home to some of the most interesting specimens that man has ever gauged at," Double D began, adding a flourish to his words with magician hand movements. Any moment, Eddy was expecting him to pull a rabbit out of his ass. He sounded like the guy at the beginning of the really old Twilight Zone shows mixed in with David fucking Copperfield. For the love of _God. _"In my research, I came across a particular specimen that brought about a fair amount of interest-"

"Yeah," Eddy snorted, then took another drink of vodka. He'd need it if Double D kept going like this.

"-at least, enough to run a cross frame analysis with its Latin binominal name with its language of origin."

"Swahili?" Eddy asked, recovering the fact that he had learned from a guide book. He raised his hand in faux friendly greeting and declared in a very good African accent, "_Jambo."_

Double D smiled at his friend, but shook his head. "No. Its _Latin _binominal name with its language of origin. Latin."

Eddy stirred the vodka with a tiny plastic sword with a pierced lemon wedge on the end of it. "And you came up with?"

"_Excessum victus_," Double D said, enjoying the flow of the words as the rolled off his tongue. He sat still and silent for a moment, reliving the experience as his heart increased much the way Eddy's did when he lost his virginity at a party last year.

"Ok…" Eddy said, then realizing that Double D was doing one of his moments, he snuck another sip of vodka, then looked at the glass. It was already only a fourth full. _Or, _his smart ass mind said. _Some would say that it's three-fourth gone. _Despite that if someone else were to say it out loud, Eddy would instantly bounce on them for retarded witticism, he smiled towards himself and added yet another personal thought that he would reflect on later and grin about. Remembering his fantasizing friend, he tapped him smartly on the sternum and snapped his fingers in his face. "Um…I took Spanish last year, not Latin."

"Fat lot of good it did you anyway," Double D snorted, though it was just a stereotype against Eddy. Imagine, someone who for years, had refused school, and had put it out of his time, often skipping it to go to the creek and fish or just wallow in the tepid waters and watch fish come and attack his feet with their tiny, dull teeth. But once he had enrolled in _espanol_, he began to speak it more and more, actually going to the library and researching new words. He had gotten all four of his foreign language credits with a 4.0, and had actually done better the Double D himself.

"Fuck…you. Just answer the damn question. _Utajibu!" _Eddy snapped.

Double D was impressed. "Working on another language, huh?"

"I've been working on French, Swahili, and German. Just answer the question."

"_Fiti. _Ok, fine. _Excessum victus, _is Latin for, in the literal sense 'Death Living.'"

"…Ok, so how is death living?" Eddy asked, staring at his vodka.

"With Latin, certain words, go in front of other, just like Spanish, or French, or-"

"So it's actually 'Living Death.' That still makes near nothing sense."

"When I say 'Living Dead', what is the first thing that pops into your mind?"

Eddy laughed. "Double D's been watching too many fucking zombie movies."

Double D laughed as well with his own laugh that always reminded Eddy of when they were thirteen and Kevin was about to kick their asses for something stupid that he had thought up, but all three got beat for. Aw, sweet nostalgic moments.

"Zombie! Exactly, if I'm right, this virus has the ability to make hosts' brains completely wipe out except for the most basic functions."

Eddy gripped the sides of the vodka glass like it was a joystick at an arcade, preparing to down it. This shit was already getting like two drunks at a bar talking about the most recent Resident Evil game, 3, 4, 5, whatever one they were on. He had tried 4 before, but it just didn't really appeal to him. "So what are the most 'basic functions?'" he asked, relaxing his arm muscles. This was Double D. Everything had a logical, completely _normal _solution. Maybe he was just using the zombie thing as a metaphor to help Eddy understand.

"Walk, see, grip tools, and eat," Double D said, then added, "They are most partial to human muscle."

"What the fuck?"


End file.
